


I'd like the snow a lot more if I didn't have to drive in it!

by EllieWan



Series: Sweetie Pie (Ace/Thermite) [10]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Grumpy/Cheering dynamics, Humor, M/M, Norway (Country), Siegemas 2020 (Rainbow Six), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, winter holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27994293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieWan/pseuds/EllieWan
Summary: “I still can’t realize. That we’re like… together,” Håvard admitted.“I do realize it, considering howI’m lost in a Norwegian shithole ordering potato dumplings!”
Relationships: Håvard "Ace" Haugland/Jordan "Thermite" Trace
Series: Sweetie Pie (Ace/Thermite) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985390
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31
Collections: Siegemas_2020





	I'd like the snow a lot more if I didn't have to drive in it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys :D This is my entry for [Dual Rainbow's](https://dualrainbow.tumblr.com/) Siegemas event, thank you for the opportunity, I'm so happy to take part in it <3  
> My prompt was "I'd like the snow a lot more if I didn't have to drive in it." 
> 
> Also, please accept the most tooth-rotting fluff I've ever written about those two. I hope you'll like it.  
> \+ Some cues are refering to things that will happen in [ Boom Boom ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27807820/) ;)  
> \+ Sorry for any mistake / weird phrasing.

“That’s it. We’re never spending winter holidays in your country again.”

“Oooh come on, don’t be like that. I thought you liked snow!”

“I’d like snow _a lot more_ if I didn’t have to drive in it!”

“Then let me take the wheel.”

“No. I drive. You rest.”

Håvard chuckled, putting his hand on Jordan’s thigh, and softly massaging the firm flesh underneath the thick jean.

“We’re almost there.” He said with a soothing voice, almost encouraging.

“That’s what you’ve been saying for two hours.” Jordan complained.

“You’re being grumpy.” Håvard laughed.

“But you didn’t tell me it was going to snow so much!”

“It’s not snowing _so much_ it’s snowing _a bit_. And we’re fine, the car has snow tires and… You know what? We should take a break.”

“We’re not taking a break, we should continue before the snow gets too thick and it gets dangerous and too dark, and I’m not driving by night. _And_ your mother is going to kill us if we don’t make it by the end of the day. She’s probably preparing a massive dinner and-”

“We’re taking a break, honey. You’re getting anxious.”

“Don’t _honey_ me.”

“See?”

Jordan sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose without taking his eyes off the road, and Håvard smiled faintly at him, stroking Jordan’s thigh in a gesture he tried as soothing and loving as possible.

“I’m sorry.” Jordan murmured, feeling guilty that he almost yelled at Håvard.

Håvard smiled, and leant in to check the GPS, tapping on the screen:

“You know, I really think we should stop though. There’s still quite a road ahead and-“

“I knew it!” Jordan immediately whined again. “I knew there was a reason why you were hiding the Estimated Time of Arrival!”

“Aaaaand I think you’re hungry. You’re always grumpy when you’re hungry.”

“I’m grumpy because of that stupid snow!”

“You’re definitely hungry.”

“Ok, maybe I am. So what?”

“Let’s stop at the next town and eat something. The snow will probably stop meanwhile.”

Jordan seemed to process what Håvard was saying, and biting the inside of his cheek, he finally gave in, putting his hand on Håvard’s.

“Ok fine. But we should give your mom a call, then,” Jordan sighed, “or she might worry.”

“I will.”

When Jordan stepped out of the car, his first reaction was to gape in _shock_ at the cold temperature, the icy wind bringing snowflakes to his black hair and stings to his cheeks.

“Oh my _God_ , it’s fucking _freezing_!” Jordan exclaimed while pulling at his parka so that no wind could get in.

He closed the car and quickly hid his hands in his pockets. Håvard chuckled, moving around the car to go circle his arm around Jordan’s shoulders, keeping him close:

“It’s _a tad_ cold, I grant you.” He replied with a smirk.

“You’re crazy. This country is crazy. How do you live like this?”

“It’s not winter every day, sweetie pie, and that’s what happens when we get close to the Arctic circle.”

“Why are we going this north again?” Jordan mumbled.

“Because I want to show you a special place to see polar lights, and cuddle with you next to the fireplace, and hug you tight, kissing you all night long aaaand because my mom would have killed me if I didn’t bring you to our special Christmas place.”

Jordan seemed to gently relax, as a small timid smile was stretching his lips. And Håvard pressed a kiss to his temple, chuckling:

“You’ve got snowflakes in your hair.”

“Yeah duh, it’s snowing.”

“It’s cute. Looks good on you.”

“Snowflakes look good on me?” Jordan laughed.

“Hm hmmm” answered Håvard while nuzzling Jordan’s head with affection.

They walked from the parking towards the restaurant, and Jordan quickly walked to grab the door and open it for Håvard.

“Always so chivalrous, Jordan.”

“Always for my sassy prince Håvard the Great,” Jordan joked.

“I like the sound of it.”

“Of course you do.”

They entered the restaurant, wiping their wet feet on the entrance mat. A waitress quickly came to meet them, asking them if they were only two for lunch. Håvard quickly answered back, talking fast in his native tongue.

The waitress then nodded with a smile and waved them over a table in a corner, next to a window and… a radiator, which immediately brought a grin on Jordan’s face. They took away their heavy outdoor clothes and Håvard grabbed Jordan’s coat to hang it on the rack. They sat down and Jordan almost moaned at the sweet warmth coming from the radiator next to him. Håvard looked at him, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What?” Jordan asked, frowning.

“Your nose is pink.”

“Yeah duh. Those few minutes out there were enough to turn me into a goddam Christmas reindeer.”

“You’re cute.”

“Stop it,” Jordan said while opening his menu and blushing at Håvard’s comment.

He took a quick look at the menu but of course it was all in Norwegian. Fortunately, he could find familiar roots in some words and his time with Håvard had taught him a few things. But he couldn’t help squinting, trying to understand without any help from his boyfriend.

The waitress quickly came back with a notepad, and asked with a singing voice:

“Skal det være noe å drikke?”

Jordan was about to let Håvard repeat in English for him… _but Håvard didn’t_. He just pointed at Jordan with his chin, and the waitress followed his gaze, waiting for him to answer. Jordan almost gaped at the situation, glaring at Håvard. _The fucker wanted him to speak Norwegian_ , and the poor oblivious waitress was waiting patiently, sweetly looking at him.

“J-Jeg tar…”, Jordan started with a hesitating voice “Jeg tar vann, takk.”

He then glared at Håvard who was looking at him with a goofy smile on his face, and who quickly placed his own order, speaking so fast that Jordan barely recognized the words. The waitress then disappeared, leaving them with their menus.

“I’m going to kill you, Håvard.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re way too cute when you’re trying to speak with that Texan accent of yours. And I feel so… proud? To have a boyfriend that actually tries to speak my language and-“

“Stop it.”

“You’re blushing?”

“I’m not,” Jordan denied. “It’s the cold.”

“You’re still cold?” Håvard asked with worry, his brows furrowing.

“No, it’s ok, I’m getting warmer.”

“I can lend you my sweatshirt if you want.”

“I’ll be ok, babe, really.”

And Håvard just melted, dropping his head in his hands and staring fondly at Jordan, like an admirative teenaged fanboy.

“What?” Jordan asked with a chuckle, seeing Håvard being theatrical again.

“I’ll never get used to it.”

“To what?”

“You calling me babe.”

“How about I call you LETTSALTET LAMMEKJØTT MED RASPEBALLER?” Jordan joked while reading the menu.

“You almost got it right. And you should take that, by the way, you’ll love it.”

“Huh, I should first try to figure out what’s in it. Raspeballer is the potato ball thing, right?”

“Jordan.”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Jordan looked up at Håvard, and seeing his gorgeous blue-eyed face gazing at him, he couldn’t help but reply with a smile:

“I love you too.”

“I still can’t realize. That we’re like… together,” Håvard admitted.

“I do realize it, considering how _I’m lost in a Norwegian shithole ordering potato dumplings_!”

Håvard laughed and put his hand on Jordan’s, who laced his fingers with his.

“It’s… you know. So weird. I love you so much and… yeah, we’re together. And I didn’t think you could love me back.”

“You didn’t seem to doubt it at the time. I didn’t think the word rejection was even part of your vocabulary!”

“I know! But like… I don’t know, you were just so different, so gorgeous, so sweet, so social, so funny, so perfect and-“

“I _was_?” Jordan teased.

“Can you be serious for a second! I’m making a confession!” Håvard almost whined, faking offense.

“Sorry, sorry.” Jordan chuckled.

“ _Anyway_ , I love you. And I’m happy to be with you.”

“I’m happy to be with you too.”

“You are? You don’t… you know, you don’t talk a lot about your feelings, though I don’t doubt them and like, it’s ok. But… yeah, you’re happy too?”

Jordan rolled his eyes, lowering his menu and smiled, looking straight in Håvard’s eyes.

“Do you really think I’d drag my Texan ass to the Arctic circle for anyone? I love you too, Håvard. You’re my personal TV show, always telling stories and getting yourself in ludicrous situations, messing with people, being a drama queen, getting on the nerves of everyone and pranking the whole base, you’re my ambulant chaos. But you’re also my glue stick, my overaffective, hyperactive, and sensitive sweetheart who’s secretly overflowing with love to give. And I’m in love with you.”

“Ok I wasn’t ready. Is it the part where you’re proposing to me?”

“Who’s not serious, now?”

Håvard laughed with a timid smile, shaking his head and pinching his lips, as a red hue was slowly rising to his cheeks.

“You’re feeling better?” Jordan asked.

“No, I think I need another confession.”

“Really?”

“I’m kidding!”

They both laughed and went back to their menus, their fingers still laced together, gently stroking each other. Jordan discreetly peeped back at Håvard, who was now focusing on the menu. He was about to tell him he loved him, but he didn’t want to “oversay” it. So, he just gazed at Håvard till the waitress arrived, asking them if they had chosen.

And _of course,_ Håvard had to continue his little game:

“Hva skal du bastille, kjære?” he asked Jordan with a cheeky grin.

The waitress quickly turned towards Jordan, probably amused by the game too. Jordan gave his grumpy face to Håvard, who just kept smirking at him. Jordan took a deep breath and tried his best:

“Jeg tar lettsaltet lammekjøtt med raspeballer…” he timidly uttered.

“Og vil du ha dessert? ” the waitress asked back, rising the difficulty level.

“Hmmm k-kan jeg bestille etter måltidet? ”

The waitress made a very satisfied grin, nodding, and looked at Håvard as if saying _You taught him good, he’s almost one of us now._ Håvard chuckled and placed his own order, handing their menus to the waitress. She left and Jordan finally slapped Håvard’s hand:

“Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Making me babble Norwegian in front of strangers.”

“But you’re doing so good, I can’t help being proud of you and showing off how a perfect boyfriend you are!”

“Like the Instagram incident?”

“Oh no, are you still mad at me for that?”

“You didn’t ask for my permission!”

“But you were so cute. Sleeping on the couch, face in the pillow, while listening to your Norwegian lessons. I had to take that picture.”

“But you didn’t ask for my permission to post it! Remember Rule no. 4?!”

“There was no Rules at that time. They appeared after the Tik Tok incident.”

“Hm… they did?“

“Yeah. After you PURPOSELY SHAVED HALF OF MY EYEBROW, JORDAN!”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

Håvard stood from his chair, leaning forward to point at his right eyebrow, half of which was slowly growing back after obviously having been shaved too close.

“And now?! Do you see, love of my life?!”

Jordan quickly pressed a kiss to Håvard’s mouth and crossed his arms again, looking elsewhere. Håvard opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out. He sat back down, pointing his finger at Jordan:

“That’s how we came up with Rule no. 1.”

“ _No non-consensual eyebrow shaving_ , yeah right. But then Rule no. 2. _No cellophane related prank_. After I nearly broke my face after you and Dominic set up that prank!”

“Yeah, and that’s how we came to Rule no. 3 too!” Håvard protested. “ _No german suplexes_. You nearly killed me.”

“It was on the couch! By the way, the very same where the Instagram incident happened, which leads us to Rule no. 4 which should be retroactive!”

“ _No taking pictures of Jordan’s awkward sleeping positions_. Yeah.”

“Should I remind you of the 17 others?”

“Oh look, our drinks are arriving!”

“Yeah, so it seems. Don’t think I’m done with you, though.”

* * *

Going back to the car, Jordan and Håvard fought for who would be the next one to take the wheel. Håvard was protesting that Jordan had driven enough for the day, and Jordan was making up excuses like how he should drive while they were on the highway, so that Håvard could take the wheel when they'll get on more regional and rough roads. They ended up flipping a coin and Håvard won. So now they were back on the road, Håvard proudly driving the car while Jordan was reading things on his phone.

“See? It stopped snowing. Happy?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like snow, I said I liked it a lot more when I didn’t have to drive in it!”

“And that’s why you were insisting so much for keeping the wheel?”

“You looked tired, earlier.”

“That’s because I didn’t put my concealer nor my BB cream on.”

“You didn’t sleep in the plane.”

“Because I was so excited!”

Jordan chuckled.

“It was funny though. Going to the airport with the colleagues, and leaving for different terminals.”

“Yeah and seeing everyone in civilian clothing,” Håvard added.

Jordan smiled.

_Jordan was ordering two coffees at the over-pricey coffee shop, with Emma and Grace._

_“Don’t tell me you’re really ordering this caramel latte thing for your e-boy, are you?” Grace joked._

_“I’m afraid I am. You know how he likes those things.”_

_Grace chuckled, paying for her order:_

_“You’re so deep in it, Jordan. Don’t forget I can ruin his life with a few clicks if he bothers you.”_

_“I know, Grace,” Jordan laughed. “But I don’t think it’ll be necessary.”_

_She winked, waving at them, and headed for the sitting room where the others were staying. Emma then gently patted Jordan’s back:_

_“She’s right. You seem really attached to him. I can’t believe you’re going to Norway. Like… you. Jordan Trace. Norway. Jordan. Norway.”_

_“It’s just for a few days,” he tried to dismiss with a chuckle. “Nothing too crazy. It’s like… yeah spending a weekend together. And… after everything that happened. He still needs to rest. You too. That was… yeah.”_

_She gently stroked his arm and pulled him in a hug. And Jordan gave in, holding her tight._

_“Yeah, that was a mess,” she admitted. “But here we are.”_

_“One large black coffee and one large caramel latte?” the barman called._

_“Yup, that’s for me!” Jordan quickly pulled away from Emma to grab the warm coffees._

_“Oh God I’m such an idiot, I just realized, it’s not vegetal milk, he’s going to kill me.”_

_“He’s not vegan, is he?”_

_“Nope, vegetarian. But he doesn’t like the taste of animal milk. Wait a sec, I have an idea.”_

_Jordan put the cups on a table near them and grabbed some sugar, emptying the pouch in Håvard’s drink._

_“Better,” he chuckled. “He’ll still feel it, but he won’t make a fuss.”_

_“You know, I think he loves you so much that he could pretend not to pay attention to that.”_

_“Well then, you’ve never heard of the Cereals incident”_

Jordan chuckled for himself.

“What’s so funny?” Håvard asked.

“Nothing, I was just… remembering things from the airport.”

Håvard just smiled, putting a hand on Jordan’s thigh again like he loved to, without taking his eyes off the road.

“It was a weird feeling though,” Håvard continued. “I hadn’t felt this kind of melancholy in a long time.”

“The airport?”

“Yeah. And like… being part of something. Of a group. It reminded me of some good times with the FSK, and even during the conscription. My group used to be very tightly knitted and I hadn’t experienced things like this in a long time. It’s like… I don’t know how to phrase this.”

“Leaving family to go back to family?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how it must feel like for people like Mike, or Sasha, or… you know, people who’ve been away from home and civilian life for a long time. Do you think they’re like… sad or something? I know the old man hates it when he has to go outside.”

“Mike? Yeah. It’s not really that he’s sad, but sure he doesn’t know many people outside the base, except for his brother, his ex-wife or very old relationships.”

“And he’s happy like this?”

“Well look at you, worrying about other people’s feelings!” Jordan joked. “Who are you and what have you done to my man?”

“I’m just being curious!” Håvard protested. “Like, you know, sometimes I just wonder how it feels like to be like them and all. I’ve never participated in a war, or something, except for war on terrorism but even then, it’s not the same and… yeah.”

“Trust me, people oversell it, it’s not that great,” Jordan joked again.

“Your ratio of jokes per minute is increasing, sweetie pie. Is the subject making you anxious?”

“You’ve spent too much time with Harry.”

Håvard laughed, pressing his hand on Jordan’s thigh firmlier, gently massaging it:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s alright. But only because it’s you.”

“Hmmmm I like the sound of that.”

Jordan chuckled while focusing back on his phone and what he was reading. And surprisingly, 5 minutes of silence passed before Håvard started talking again:

“What are you reading, pumpkin?”

“Hm, nothing.”

“And is nothing interesting?”

“Hm it is.”

“Jordan, what is it?”

“It’s er… personal.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me it’s work-related?

“W-What? No… !”

“OH MY GOD, IT’S WORK RELATED!”

“Don’t scream! It’s nothing! It’s just that I’ve been granted access to an online conference about exotherm-“

“IT’S WORK RELATED!”

“Ok, it is, but it’s-“

“I’m creating Rule no. 18!”

“Oh no, babe, please!”

“ _No work when we’re on vacation_.”

“It’s not work, it’s just reading and-“

“Ok, then _No reading about explosives during holidays_.”

“That’s not fair. Do we have a rule like _No posting things on social media during holidays_?”

“No, we don’t, because social medias are not _work-related_!”

“B-But… Urgh.”

“I need your stamp on Rule no. 18 _No work when we’re on holidays._ ”

Jordan pouted, shutting his phone and looking through the window.

“Jordan, the rules need to be sealed with a kiss. That’s Rule 0.”

“You’re driving.”

“I can pull over.”

Håvard leant slightly towards Jordan, offering his cheek without looking away from the road.

“I’m waiting,” he insisted.

Jordan sighed, puffing the air out of his mouth and leant to kiss Håvard’s cheek. And of course Håvard had to turn his head at the very last moment to kiss his lips instead. They went back to their positions and Jordan reluctantly chuckled.

“I now declare Rule no. 18 effective,” Håvard proudly announced.

“Ok. Then I’m going to your Onlyfans.”

“You need to have an account for this, sweetie.”

“Bold of you to think I don’t.”

“What?!”

* * *

When they finally arrived in the tiny northern village, the temperature was probably _one of the worst Jordan had experienced in his whole life_. The only comparison he could find was during a training in Siberia, but even then, it hadn’t been this horrible. They quickly parked the car and reached for the house, a cosy chalet painted in red not far from the shore. The place used to be a fisherman village, had told him Håvard, where his grandparents had lived and which his mother had left during her studies before settling in the village where Håvard was born and where she had found a job fitting her wishes. But now, the fisherman village was a bit more active, thanks to the aurora borealis hunters who had consecrated the spot as one of the best accessible places to observe them.

When they opened the door to the familial chalet, Håvard’s mother immediately appeared, a comical small old lady. Jordan started to anxiously utter:

“Good evening, Ma’am. I’m sorry we are a bit la-“

She didn’t wait for him to finish and violently pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing his ribs like if she was trying to crack his joints, and he almost coughed to the incredible force of the old lady. She then grabbed his face in her hands, smooching loudly his cheek:

“I’m so happy to have you here Jordan. I hope Håvard did not bother you too much on the way.”

“Mamma!” Håvard whined while gaping.

“No, he didn’t,” Jordan chuckled. “But we had more snow that expected when crossing the country. But it looks like the weather is somehow calmer in those parts.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now come, take off your shoes and put yourself at ease. I prepared your room and a good meal, you boys will be comfortable there.”

Jordan nodded, thanking her and entering the chalet. Håvard then opened his arms for his mother, and she willingly hugged him back, murmuring loving words at him.

They spent a cosy, warm evening at the chalet. Håvard’s mother was an energetic and curious woman, she asked them many questions, despite already knowing much about their relationship, and serving them more food in their plates every time they weren’t looking. Time passed quickly, between many stories, funny anecdotes, laughs and smiles, and soon it was already late. Jordan was helping, despite her protests, Håvard’s mother with the dishes and to clean the table after their meal, when Håvard looked at his phone:

“Oh, it’s already 11,” he said.

“Yes,” Håvard’s mother replied. “I’ll take care of the rest, Jordan, thank you for the help. Now go with Håvard hunt for the Northern lights.”

“You sure?”

“Yes please. You’re too sweet.”

He gave in when Håvard’s circled Jordan’s torso with his arms, pulling him away from the kitchen.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled.

They put two other layers of warm clothes and then their outdoor ones, before heading back for the car, which struggled a bit to start but still managed to. Håvard slowly drove them out of the village, behind the hills, till he parked the car near a natural and empty beach, without any tourist or northern light hunters on it. Håvard looked on his phone:

“According to my mother, there should be some in like less than an hour. According to the app, there’ll be some in two or three hours.”

“Please tell me we’re waiting in the car,” Jordan begged.

“Of course, we are! But let’s just go out for a few seconds, just to breathe some fresh air, shall we?”

“Some fresh air? You mean some FREEZING air.”

Håvard chuckled while getting out of the car, wrapping his scarf around his neck and Jordan imitated him, stepping into the cold weather and shutting the door behind him. He walked a few steps forwards, getting closer to the beach.

There was an unsettling yet mesmerizing atmosphere. The sky was a web of stars, constellations shining like diamonds in a mine. And the waves from the dark sea slowly splashing in caresses on the snowy white sand; the sound was like a hypnotic song from the planet. Because that’s where they were, on a planet, and proof of that was the Milky Way’s face in the sky. There were on a tiny, complex piece of rock, part of this galactic incredible cosmos.

A pair of arms went to hug him from behind and Håvard’s face nuzzled the crook of his neck, pressing dry kisses on his thickly clothed skin.

“I love you,” Håvard murmured. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Is my country still so bad and crazy?”

“For sure it’s crazy. But I don’t think I’ve seen a sky like this in a long time. It reminds me that we’re on a planet. And it reminds me of when mom took us to the Yellowstone. It’s a nice memory.”

Håvard tightened his hug.

“And I’m happy to make some more with you,” Jordan added. “And I guess I understand now why you keep saying your heart remains in Norway.”

“Well, technically, it’s not the case anymore.”

“How so?”

“My heart remains where yours is.”

* * *

To say that Northern lights were a beautiful spectacle was an understatement. It was absolutely mesmerizing, powerful and enthralling. There was something both magical and chemical, about those lights, and seeing them dancing and stretching in the sky was absolutely bewitching. The spectacle lasted for a few hours, and they only drove back to the chalet once the lights had almost faded out in the distance.

Jordan almost moaned with pleasure when getting inside the chalet, because of the warmth. They quietly took out their shoes and heavy clothes while heading for their bedroom, fortunately at the opposite of Håvard’s mother’s, so there was no risking waking her up.

They opened their bags and quickly changed in night clothes, Jordan keeping his T-shirt on because despite the gentle warmth, he still felt a bit cold from staying outside for so long, either motionless in the car, or taking pictures ~~and sucking faces with Håvard in the snow.~~

He quickly got under the blanket, folding himself almost in a fetal position and disappearing under the thick comforter. And after a few minutes, he felt Håvard climbing in bed behind him and wrapping his body against Jordan’s.

“Hmmm I don’t want to be the little spoon,” Jordan grumbled.

“Too bad. Remember Bed Rule no. 4?”

“Isn’t that the Rule about cold feet?”

“No, that’s rule no. 5”

“Hm…?” Jordan dubiously mumbled.

“Bed rule no.1: no sleeping without goodnight kisses, even if we’re mad at each other.  
Bed rule no. 2: no phone in bed.  
Bed rule no. 3: no work in bed.  
Bed rule no. 4: who spoons first, spoons for the rest of the night.  
Bed rule no. 5: no playing footsie with cold feet  
Bed rule no. 6: no tickling Jordan when there is furniture around”

“No tickling Jordan, period,” Jordan corrected.

“Hmmmm, that’s not the rule.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hmmm Jordan?”

“Wha- GODDAMMIT STOP IT!”

Håvard had started tickling Jordan, while still holding him tight against him, keeping him imprisoned while Jordan’s body was freaking out and tossing around.

“Hush, sweetie pie. You’re going to wake up my mother.”

“Then stop- tickling- me, or I might break Rule no. 3!”

“Ok, ok!” Håvard complied, stopping the tickling and lovingly hugging Jordan instead.

“I demand an amendment of Bed Rule no. 6,” Jordan declared with a solemn voice. “No tickling Jordan in bed, _period._ ”

“I do accept. We should then seal it.”

Jordan tilted to his back and Håvard pressed his lips to his. Jordan then slowly crept his hands on Håvard’s back, stroking his naked warm skin and covering it with loving caresses. Håvard leant over him, till their chests were pressed against each other, and cupped Jordan’s cheek with one hand, kissing him deeper till a silent moan escaped both of their mouths. Håvard parted away to look at Jordan’s silver eyes, sparkling with emotion, and he murmured:

“I love you.”

And as always came the answer:

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is it :) I hope you guys have liked it, lemme know <3  
> \+ Onlyfans reference comes from [these amazing artworks](https://twitter.com/retrodisasterR6/status/1328038792314425347) by [Retrodisaster](https://twitter.com/retrodisasterR6)! :')  
> \+ I wish you a Merry Siegemas and Happy New Year! Please [ check out the other authors' works](https://dualrainbow.tumblr.com/post/636277860907319296/siegemas-siegemas-time-is-here), they're awesome!


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